Starting From Scratch
by MeredithMcSteamy
Summary: Meredith is tired of all that her life entails, so she leaves to find herself in hopes that when she returns she’ll be whole again. She’s not alone though, her fellow mistress is starting new too. Their journey may lead to more than ever expected. MerMark
1. Prologue: Ready

**Title**: _Starting From Scratch  
_**Author**: _MeredithMcSteamy_  
**Warning**: _Sexual situations, some strong language._  
**Spoilers**: _All Seasons, just in case_  
**Genre**: _Romance/Drama/Humor_  
**Relationship(s)**: _Mer/Mark, past Mark/Addison, Mer/Der_  
**Summary**: _Meredith is tired of all that her life entails, so she leaves to find herself in hopes that when she returns she'll be whole again. She's not alone though, her fellow mistress is starting new too. Their journey may lead to more than ever expected,_  
**Disclaimer**:_ I do not own any rights to Grey's Anatomy or the characters involved._

_**Starting From Scratch**_

_Prologue_

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"_What appears to be the end may really be a new beginning."_

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_There is a point in everyone's life where things become too much. A moment when we want to shout: 'Enough already! Please!' We can pull through unimaginable turmoil, rough through the hardest moments of ours lives, but when it all piles up, and the smallest of things happens, sometimes we just need to throw in the towel. There are people to be left behind; people who matter and will worry. But sometimes, a person just needs to go away and rebuild themselves; from scratch_.

Meredith Grey stalked through the hospital, her hair falling out of her regular ponytail as she forced herself not to make a scene by running. Though most would just assume she was busy, the hospital was unnaturally calm for the moment, and the tears in her eyes would be a dead give away. She couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't stand the crying, the hurt, the anguish that seemed to dog her every step. She didn't want to have to go through one of their patented talks, where he apologized with that pitiful look on his face, like she should be the one who feels bad. She just couldn't do it anymore! She was done. Finished! Over it! There was no more Derek and Meredith; he could have his new little intern for all she cared. She'd _put him out of his misery_ just like he wanted her to; of course she wanted to do it in a more realistic way, rather than his metaphorical.

Her blue scrubs were thin and barely shielded her against the cool wind that met her as she finally escaped Seattle Grace Hospital. She took a deep breath, her lungs filling but only clenching hard as she forced a sob back. How many times had he been the cause of her tears? How many times had she run off to Joe's to lick her wounds and find somebody to make her feel like she was worthy of attention? Well not tonight! No, she wasn't going to go through the same old routine, only to come back and face the music another day. She was sick and tired of being his chew toy, of being torn back and forth at his every whim like some kind of tug o' war game! And why did she keep referring to their relationship in dog metaphors? She snickered, rubbing at her stinging eyes as she began jogging toward her car. She had to get away; out of the hospital, out of the situation, out of the city itself. She had to get away from all of it. Find a place where she could breathe, a place where she could gather what little dignity she had left and fix herself.

She was nearly at her car when the rain began and her feet faltered as it soaked through her scrubs to freeze her already chilled skin. She laughed then, letting her tears fall and mix with the cold of the drops soaking her all over. Hysterical and filled with sobs, she laughed and felt a scream well up in her throat. What had she done to deserve this? What had she done that was so horrible she needed to be punished every day of her life? What made her so unlovable? Her shoulders slumped, her laughter subsiding and leaving nothing but a broken woman in its wake. Her knees shook beneath her and she wanted nothing more than to let herself fall to the cold pavement, to curl up in a ball and wait for the next ambulance or hurried car to run her over and put her out of her own misery. Wouldn't that be ironic?

"Grey?" she heard a voice call out, loud and deep over the pounding rain.

She turned slowly, her eyes lifting to the blue gaze that found hers. Pain sat resolutely in his own eyes. He'd had his share of heartbreak recently, too. He'd come all this way for a woman who didn't want him, didn't love him. The only woman he'd ever loved, throwing it back in his face time and time again. For what? For Derek? He wasn't worth it. She wished she'd known that. He wasn't worth all the pain and heartache and tears. He wasn't! "Sloan," she replied, her voice void of emotion. She was tired; she just wanted to get to her car. She'd go home, pack a bag, and catch a flight. She wasn't sure where, she just knew she had to get away.

"Looks like my favourite mistress isn't riding cloud nine anymore," he said. His voice was rather flat, void of its usual humour.

She shook her head. "Not sure cloud nine exists anymore," she replied, blinking rapidly against the beads of rain that fell heavily on her face.

"Sure it does. Right there between eight and ten; can't miss it," he said, a poor smile barely finding his face. He was getting soaked too, but he barely noticed it. Hadn't he told her awhile back that he hated the rain? Hated Seattle; period. Why was he still here then? she wondered. Addison left; got out as quickly she could. Found a job somewhere sunny and happy, less depressing and emotionally charged. So why didn't Mark return to New York? Maybe he wanted to fix the friendship with Derek, or maybe he just grew to put up with the rain. She didn't know, didn't really care. All she wanted to do was get to her car, get to a plane, and find refuge somewhere far away from Seattle.

"I'm leaving," she said, having no idea why she told him.

"I figured that when I saw you on your way to your car," he said, but the intense expression on his face told her he knew exactly what she meant.

"I don't know where," she said, lifting one shoulder. "Somewhere without cheating residents, hateful fathers, and half-sisters I've never met before." Her tears had stopped, but she could feel them behind her eyes, stinging and heavy. "Somewhere without ferryboats or dreamy doctors that pursue you only to hurt you in the end." She paused, taking a deep breath and letting out shakily. "You wouldn't happen to know where that is, would you?" she asked, her voice sounding rather meek to her.

He didn't answer right away, simply staring at her a moment. "Sounds like the place I'm going. A place where begrudging ex-best friends don't live, where ex-lovers haven't completely broken me, and where I don't have to see the face of the lowly intern that ruined by hopeful happily-ever-after." He sighed, his shoulders slumping, and for once Meredith witnessed the less than confident Sloan she wasn't sure even existed.

Sniffling, Meredith wiped at her face, pushing her sopping hair back. "Where's that?" she wondered, lifting a brow.

"A long plane ride from here," he replied, lifting his eyes and staring at her seriously. "I've got an apartment there, it was on the market but I can cancel selling it now, no reason to get rid of it anymore. I've got a practice of my own there, too. Pick up where I left off, with a few adjustments here or there." He frowned, sighing heavily. "Got an extra room if you need it, until you're ready to come back that is," he offered, looking unaffected either way.

Meredith stared at him, knowing that she should probably do the more mature thing and face her demons, but when she saw his expression, she knew her face had mirrored it a thousand times. A deep hurt that never quite faded; a hope for a better future if only given the chance to really try. She would do it this time; she would go away and when she came back, she'd be better because of it. "Be at my house in one hour," she told him, nodding. "I'll be ready to go."

"You're sure?" he asked, lifting a sceptical brow.

"Never been more sure of anything in my life," she told him, nodding. A faint, very small smile appeared. "Thanks Mark," she said sincerely.

"No problem, Grey. I was going to leave with or without you anyway." He shrugged noncommittally. "Could be nice having you around; you're never boring." He smirked; a less confident and cocky but still Sloan-like, smirk.

Meredith rolled her eyes slightly, turning toward her car once more. "One hour, Sloan. Be there," she called out to him, walking swiftly toward her vehicle. She was doing the right thing; the intelligent thing. She needed this; a break from all of it. She'd call Cristina when she got there, so she wouldn't worry. Everything would be better, she just knew it. She could feel it in her gut; a new, better beginning.

An hour later, with three suitcases and a duffel bag, Meredith met Mark on her porch and smiled appreciatively as he helped her with her luggage to the car. There was no conversation, just a faint solemn mood that entrapped them. The rain had stopped, she noticed. Things were still damp, the air was still crisp and cool, and she could smell the scent that came after every rainfall, but the icy beads no longer fell from the sky to chill her skin. She'd taken a hot shower and traded in her wet scrubs for a pair of comfortable jeans and a wool knit sweater. The warmth still clung to her skin and she smiled lightly as Mark stared at her over the top of his car. "You ready?" he asked, lifting a brow.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "Yeah. I'm ready."

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**A/N** _I've already got chapter one nearly finished. I'll be updating "**A Dark and Twisty Happily Ever After**," soon. I'm writing on a different computer, otherwise I'd have it ready to go already. I have a sequel to "**A Better Man Than I**," underway, if anyone is interested. It'll deal with future!MarkMer and how Derek is dealing in a life that doesn't have revolve around him and Mer anymore. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. It's probably an overused topic, but I'll try and write it to the best of my abilities. Be sure to check out my MerMark community on LiveJournal. Go to my profile here to see the details! Review, please!_


	2. One: Routine

**_Starting From Scratch _**

_Chapter One_

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_"__Throw your dreams into space like a kite, and you do not know what it will bring back, a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country." – **Anais Nin**_

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**Six Months Later **

_Even when a person needs time alone, they desperately want someone to share in the loneliness. When they're hurt, they want others to hurt. When they're sad, they want others to be sad. For some, seeing people that aren't going through the same thing is like pouring salt on a wound, while for others it's a hope for the future. Some prefer to be surrounded by people who feel just like them, to know that they're not alone. Some find that one person who understands them and what they've gone through and cling to them like a lifesaver. Others push that person away, in hopes that they can pretend that what they're feeling will simply vanish in time. There are stages to pain, to letting go, to moving on, to everything. Even to falling in love._

"Mark? Have you seen my sneaker? Those ones I bought last we— Never mind, I found them," Meredith shouted from her room as she bent low beside the monstrous bed.

"It was under the bed, wasn't it?" he called back, his voice full of mirth.

"No!" she lied, her tone indignant.

"Lying isn't very nice, Grey. Especially to your landlord and boss," he replied, becoming louder as he approached her room.

While pulling her shoe on, she looked up to see him leaning against the doorframe, a cup of coffee in one hand and a smug smirk on his face. "Roommate, not landlord, and you're only my boss when we're actually _at_ work. Right now, I'm on my own time," she told him, smiling to herself before she was distracted by a chunk of her hair slipping out of her ponytail to fall against her cheek.

"You've got five minutes of your own time left, then your boss and roommate is leaving you to your own devices," he told her, lifting a cocky brow before turning around and walking back down the hallway, his shoes echoing over the hardwood floor.

"Oh come on!" she exclaimed, huffing. "Mark, you said you didn't have to be in for another two hours!" she shouted, pulling herself up from the floor and walking out of the room to follow him into the main living area. Their apartment was spacious and furnished in expensive but not ugly or angular furniture. It was comfortable and welcoming, despite being a highrise apartment that he'd originally made into the ultimate bachelor pad. She watched him slide into his favourite armchair and lean back, his coffee being set down on the table between his chair and the large black couch. His hand immediately picked up the New York Times and his attention was distracted from her entirely. "I thought I had time for a run in the park," she sighed, falling against the arm of the couch and looking over at him imploringly.

Mark sighed, his eyes leaving the paper. "Grey, we talked about this running in the park thing a million times. New York is not the safest place to be jogging around with nobody to keep an eye on you. You're like ninety pounds, if somebody turns on you, what are you going to do? Show them your doe eyes and hope they take pity?" he grumbled. One thing she learned quickly was that Mark was not a morning person. He wasn't close to sociable until his third cup of coffee and even then he was pretty mean. She found it rather endearing, actually.

Rolling her eyes, Meredith replied, "I'm more than ninety pounds and I can take care of myself. If you don't think so, then you can always come running with me," she told him, lifting a challenging brow.

"You wouldn't be able to keep up," he said, his eyes returning to his paper.

Huffing, she shook her head. "You never answered my question. Why are we going in now?"

"We have to drop in at Allen Pavilion hospital before we head into work. I'm needed on a consult and then we can head over to the office," he said, sipping from his coffee before making a sour face. "Remind me never to let you do the coffee the night before again."

"Why?" she asked indignantly before taking it out of his hand and sipping it. "Never mind," she said, her nose scrunching. "Do we have time to stop at Starbucks before we go to AP?"

Folding his paper up, he nodded as he rose from his chair. "I'll wait in the car, you can make the run in," he said, sounding almost jovial as he walked to the sink to pour the coffee out.

Meredith met him at the door, taking their shared set of keys off the hook and slipping her arms into her jacket. While she pulled her hair out from being stuck beneath the collar, Mark adjusted the top to fit over her shoulders. They walked out of the apartment and she turned to lock the door, but paused as she always did as he checked his pockets over once more to make sure he had everything. "You good?" she asked him, holding the door open an inch still.

"Yeah," he said, nodding absently as he checked his watch.

Nodding, Meredith closed the door, locked it tight and then walked over to match his gait on their way to the elevator. His hand lifted, palm up, waiting for the keys as he searched the back right pocket of his pants for his wallet. She handed him the keys and watched as his brow furrowed while he checked the inside pockets of his coat, frowning. Rolling her eyes, she lifted the back of his coat and pulled his wallet out from the back pocket of his pants he hadn't checked. "Every morning," she muttered, shaking her head as a small smile formed.

"It's not _every_ morning," he objected, glaring at her from the corner of his eyes. "At least I know where my _shoes_ are!"

Crossing her arms, Meredith lifted her brow and dropped her mouth open in mock surprise. "A _few_ times, that was it!"

"A few times? Try every time we have to go out! You remember dinner last week with Jared and his wife? We were a half hour late because you didn't know where the strappy black things were!" he reminded, nodding smugly as they walked out of the elevator and across the main hall, waving automatically at the guard manning the door.

"Seriously!? Do you remember after dinner? How you couldn't find your wallet at the end to pay?" she said, her eyes widening for emphasis. "He probably thought you were a cheapskate!"

"I did find it though," he said, frowning as he pushed the button on the keychain to their new car to unlock the doors.

"No, _I_ found it. In the same place you always put it but never check," she said, sliding into the passenger seat and waiting for him to get comfortable before picking up where they left off. "I don't know why it's so hard. It's the _left_ pocket. You're left handed, you put it in the back left pocket every time. But still, you always check the right and ignore the left!"

Mark sighed in exasperation. "From now on, I'll just wait for you to dig it out, how about that?"

"It'll save us some time," she replied, nodding.

Mark mimicked her under his breath, pulling out of the parking lot and directing the car to the nearest Starbucks. They fiddled around with the radio for awhile, per their usual routine. He liked listening to the traffic report and news, while she enjoyed listening to soft rock. They usually ended up on the channel that had a middle ground, playing them both equally, but they still played with the radio each morning, wanting to listen to their favourite instead of settling. Over the six months they'd spent living together, they'd created a comfortable routine between them. It wasn't all smooth sailing, but Meredith didn't think she could enjoy a future morning unless it was filled with how they usually were. She'd grown quite attached to Mark being in her life and while many of their colleagues and friends had assumed they were together, they always told them they were just friends. And they were, despite the fact that they often acted like an old married couple and knew each others mannerisms as if they'd been around each other for years.

"You want the raspberry mocha again?" he asked her as he pulled into a newly empty parking spot across from their favourite java shop. He opened his door a bit as she nodded and then turned back again. "Chocolate chip cookie or banana muffin?" he asked, lifting a brow.

She bit her lip, her eyes turning up as she gave the offer all her thought. "What are you getting?" she finally asked.

"Banana muffin," he replied, a slow, knowing smirk appearing.

"Cookie it is then," she said, nodding.

"Way to be predictable, Grey," he said before climbing out and crossing the street carefully.

He always threatened to make her get the coffee and snack each morning but ended up doing it himself. She wasn't sure why, but she wasn't complaining. While he was inside, she tried to remember which patient he had booked for that afternoon. She thought it might be the bleach blonde fifty-something that wanted a third facelift, but it could be the twenty-something man looking to get his nose shaved down a bit because it was inhibiting his breathing. She didn't like how selfish Plastics could be, but she did enjoy Mark's teachings and there were a number of consults and interesting cases that Mark got regularly. Since she was his esteemed resident she got to come along for every surgery he did. Scrubbing in with one of the most highly sought plastic surgeons in the world had an effect on most other doctors they worked with and Meredith had noticed the envy in some faces. She knew Alex probably would have done anything to be in the position she was; before the whole Addison thing anyway. She hadn't had a set career goal in mind; she wasn't like Cristina or Izzie, she was waiting for something to really open her mind and pull her in. Plastics wasn't where she saw herself being, but sometimes, when they helped someone regain their face after an accident or gave a breast cancer patient the closest thing to normality, she knew that there were upsides to her career.

Her phone rang loudly in her pocket and she was startled out of her thoughts. Mark would be a few more minutes, so she pulled her cell out and smiled briefly as she saw Cristina's name blinking out at her. Flipping it open she chuckled under her breath, "Hey. You know it's not even seven yet, right?"

"Whatever. Like you weren't up. You and McSteamy are out of the apartment before six most mornings. You didn't call last night," she reminded, annoyed. Before Meredith could reply, she continued. "He's back. Burke. He's back. He's in his office, drinking his coffee, sitting in his chair, acting like everything is normal. It's not normal, Meredith."

"Have you talked to him?" she wondered, her eyes wide with surprise. She didn't think Burke would come back, not for a long while, and if he did she expected him to be a lot less… fake. She thought he'd meet Cristina head on, maybe talk to her, work things out. But Cristina sounded almost hysterical, definitely angry, and Meredith knew nothing good could come from it. If she were still in Seattle, she'd be wishing she could be far from the drama, but since she was in New York, all she could do was feel sorry for her best friend and thank Mark for taking her away from it all before the shit hit the fan.

"Seriously? What do you think? Of course I haven't! Did you not just hear what I said? He's in his office, Mer, pretending like nothing happened. Like he didn't walk out on our wedding! What am I supposed to do?" she asked, her voice rising.

"Talk to him?" she asked, lifting her brows in question.

"Oh that's easy for you to say. You don't have to worry about your jerk of an ex showing up and pretending nothing happened. You're off living the high life with his ex best friend!" she exclaimed, muttering a few obscenities under her breath. "I'll ignore him! I mean how hard can it- Crap, there he is. Gotta—" She hung up and Meredith was left frowning at the phone in her hand. Her attention was drawn away as the driver side door opened and Meredith took the brown bag and drinks from Mark's hands.

He settled into his seat, taking the coffee out of the cup holder she'd placed it in a moment before and took a sip. "Now _that_ is coffee," he told her, smirking mischievously.

Rolling her eyes, Meredith sipped her own hot drink and broke off a piece of her cookie as she listened to him mutter about the traffic while manoeuvring back onto the road.

"Give me a bite of that," he told her, motioning to the cookie as he glanced at her, taking his eyes off the road without concern. She broke off his usual half and since his hands were full, fed him half of it and held onto the other half until he asked for it. She nibbled on hersand reminded him that the nurses were planning a mini surprise party for Clarice, the bubbly secretary.

"Why do I have to get her a gift? I sign her checks every couple weeks, isn't that enough?" he grumbled, licking the drops of coffee off his lips and looking over at her. "Why do I still employ her anyway? Nobody should be that peppy so early in the morning!"

"That's just because you're a crab in the morning," she told him, shaking her head.

"I am not," he muttered, sipping more of his coffee. "So what are we getting her then?"

"She keeps hinting that she wants a nice pair of heels to wear outside of work. We could get her a gift certificate for a shoe store around here," Meredith suggested, lifting a shoulder.

"Shoes? If anyone asks, it was all your idea. I don't want to be known as that guy who gets women shoes on their birthday. How many people do we employ? Birthdays are gonna be hell on my savings account," he muttered, lifting a brow.

She snorted, "Seriously? You are so full of it. You love being part of all this birthday stuff." She ignored the "we" he often threw out when discussing work, as if the practice was half hers. No wonder so many thought they were married, they talk as if their equals in everything. She wondered why her stomach jumped with excitement at the idea. It wasn't as if Mark was an unappealing person. In fact, ever since having moved in with him and spending time with him, he'd become one of her closest 'persons'. He'd never be Cristina, but he was as close to her as anyone could get. He was a whole other type of person, she guessed. They shared a similar problem when it came to life and they were dealing with it in the same way. They'd given up on the one-night stand thing and were now just biding their time, relearning themselves and looking towards a future that hopefully won't be so dark and twisty.

"Before you came out here, they never expected gifts and shoes, you know," he told her plainly. Despite his feigned dislike for anything resulting in him looking like a nice, caring guy he actually was beneath the cocky persona he held up.

"Aren't you happy I came out then?" she replied, smiling at him and holding up the other half of his cookie. He frowned at her, a glimmer in his eye that told her he was, and opened his mouth to accept the peace offering cookie, chewing it happily.

A half hour later they were parked at Allen Pavilion hospital and walking toward the double glass doors where a team of doctors were waiting for them. "Why are you being called in? AP doesn't usually dabble in plastic surgery," she said, looking up at him as he held the door open for her.

"Kid just got through brain surgery after a car accident. He was disfigured, so they called me in to see if it's fixable," he told her, throwing away the empty brown paper bag as he held his banana muffin up and dangled it in front of Meredith's face teasingly.

Meredith motioned her cup at him, smiling as he frowned. He'd finished off his coffee fifteen minutes prior and now he was itching for more caffeine. "Halfsies," he said, reaching for her drink.

"We were already going halfsies! That muffin is half mine. What else are you offering?" she asked, holding her drink out of reach.

"If I do the surgery, I'll let you in," he said, smirking as he held the muffin out of her reach while still trying to grab the coffee in her hand.

"Mark, I'd be in on it anyway. I always am," she replied, her hand finally getting the muffin away from him, only to hear his triumphant "hah!" as he too managed to get the coffee from her. He smiled smugly down at her and sipped from the raspberry mocha drink happily. Rolling her eyes, Meredith took a large bite out of the banana muffin and they continued walking ahead, not realizing they'd just passed the group of interns that were interested in learning about the plastic surgeon called in for a consult.

"Mer mar vee meeting tim?" she mumbled through the muffin in her mouth.

Mark glanced at her briefly, shrugging. "I'm sure he'll show up eventually."

"You didn't ask, did you?" she said, smiling.

Mark passed her back the coffee as she held his muffin out to him. "He could have suggested a place," he said defensively. "I'm the expert being called in; I shouldn't have to be the one asking."

"Reign in the ego, almighty one," she said, shaking her head.

Mark snorted, smirking to himself. A few nurses smiled in his direction, but he was distracted by the large white board on the wall stating the surgeries to be done. "Déjà vu much?" he said, looking over to her as he leaned against the nurses desk.

Meredith moved to stand next to him, sighing. "Do you miss it at all?"

He didn't answer right away, his arm falling around her shoulders comfortably. "I didn't belong there."

"You could have. People just didn't let you try," she told him, her arm lifting to wrap around his waist, forgetting where they were.

"New York's more my style and pace. I'm not missing the rain," he said, smirking down at her.

She nodded slowly, though some part of her missed Seattle, she was happy in New York. "I like it here," she declared, smiling. "The company could be better, of course."

He snickered, his arm dragging her a little closer in a hug. "I know what you mean," he said teasingly.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, laughter ringing in her voice.

"Doctor Sloan?" a deep, older voice called out.

Separating, Meredith and Mark turned to meet the man who was obviously the chief of surgery there at Allen Pavilion. He already had his hand out and a grim expression bore only after many years of health care on his face. "Dr. Amory," he greeted. "This is my resident, Dr. Grey."

Meredith shook the older man's hand, reminded of Chief Webber back in Seattle. Within moments, the three of them were walking down the hall toward the patient's room. Meredith listened closely to the conversation between the two doctors, feeling a pang of remorse for the five year old boy who was already going through something so life changing. His parents were killed in the crash and the young boy wasn't looking so good. He had emergency surgery done on his brain when there was bleeding and heavy swelling, but he wasn't looking so good after everything. She didn't have to stifle a gasp, like most normal people would, when she saw him. She was far too used to the bruising, swelling, and abnormal shaping that ruined the poor boys face. All her years as Ellis's daughter and then as a doctor herself, she'd seen enough not to react.

Forty-five minutes later, Mark was shaking Dr. Amory's hand and assuring him that he and Meredith would be back within the next two days to talk to the young boy, whose name she learned was Coby Smith, about what would be done and how he'd look. Meredith hung around outside the room, waiting for Mark as he finished talking to Amory about his practice and stint in Seattle. Obviously the chief was feeling him out to see if the reason Mark left Seattle was because he preferred his practice rather than a hospital, in hopes of possibly recruiting him and adding a plastics department to the hospital. Mark wasn't interested, Meredith knew. He loved his private practice and preferred a place that was run on far less nurse gossip and drama. While she waited, she noticed a cluster of people trying to act as if they weren't looking at her and Mark every few seconds. She could tell from their age and look that they were interns and thought of her own time as one back in Seattle, wondering how her friends were doing. Talking to Cristina wasn't the same as being there with them all. She hadn't gotten a hold of George, Izzie, or Alex, they were too busy with their own drama and while she felt bad for it, she just didn't feel like dealing with all that came with calling them just yet.

The interns were bickering amongst each other, trying to figure out which one of them should approach her, she noticed. She smiled briefly, amused at their actions. There were three guys and two girls and all of them were horrible at pretending they weren't staring. She thought momentarily of just walking over and introducing herself, but then decided to let them squirm. They'd have to grow a backbone sometime, it was best to leave them to do it without her help. Not everybody would be so amused by them, but instead offended. They'd learn. One of them finally broke away from the group; a good looking guy that reminded her rather of Alex, with short dark hair and a winning grin. He walked toward her with a confident gait, despite the fact that he'd been just as hesitant in talking to her a little while ago. He was almost upon her when Mark appeared by her side, his hand falling to the small of her back and directing her away from the intern and toward the exit. Meredith noticed the scowl on Mark's face and assumed it was because Amory tried to recruit him.

As they passed the unknown intern, he looked up at Mark and then over at Meredith, awe and curiosity in his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it as Mark looked at him, discouraging icy blue eyes glaring into him until he faltered and backed up a step.

"Don't be so mean, Mark," Meredith chastised, though laughter resonated in her voice.

"I hate interns," he muttered, shaking his head.

"You realize you _were_ one once, right?" she asked, lifting a brow.

"Never," he disagreed, his scowl lifting into a smug smirk.

"Seriously, your ego could smother a person," she told him, breaking away and moving to stand a few feet from him dramatically.

Laughing, he shook his head at her. "You love my ego, Grey. Just admit it. All women do." He pulled his McSteamy face, looking smug and just as attractive as ever.

Snorting, Meredith rolled her eyes. "Immune," she told him, pointing a finger for emphasis.

Grinning, Mark held the door open for her and followed her outside.

**To be continued...**

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**A/N **_I've already got chapter two and nearly all of chapter three finished, but I'm going away for two weeks, so I won't be able to update until then. I might be able to get a friend to do it, but I'm not sure. I'll try and update earlier. Hope you enjoyed it. Review, please!_


	3. Two: Partners

_**Starting From Scratch**_

_Chapter Two_

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"_Friendship is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies_." - **_Aristotle_**

**-**

_Sometime the connections we find with other people are not made of the nicest things. As easy as it is to share laughter and happiness, it is just as often that we share grief and pain. It is through this, though, that we find our greatest allies. The friendships born of commiseration and listening can be the long-lasting kind. The type that forever is made of. And while it's not always who we think we want it to be, people can surprise you._

Hours later, Meredith was tired of looking at breasts. Silicone or real, she was simply tired of looking at them. She wondered how Mark could possibly have been such a manwhore when he spent so much time looking at fake and seriously unattractive breasts. Logically, he could be spending his time balancing it out by looking at _real_ breasts, but she didn't think it was that at all. He was just a sexually charged man who separated his professional life from his personal life. Except of course when he was flirting or bedding nurses or patients, but that was all on hold since his new life journey.

They'd had a busy day; three breast augmentations, one nose reduction, and a meeting for liposuction. Meredith was happy to be going home, already thinking of the comfy couch awaiting her, the hot bath she'd soak in for an hour, and the delicious dinner that Mark would make. She was sitting in the lunch room, sipping on a stale cup of coffee as Mark finished talking on the phone with a client. Clarice, the peppy secretary, was still manning the front desk, waiting for Mark and Meredith to leave before she'd finish cleaning up a little and close up. Meredith had a suspicion that she was really playing with the before/after imager most afternoons, but she never called her out on the odd habit. Clarice was an overzealous and anxious young blonde that had a crush on Mark and a cheerful exuberance that would make Cristina cringe. Meredith found her amusing, albeit quite annoying.

"You ready to go, Grey?" she heard Mark's voice call out from his office.

Despite six months of living together and over a year of working together in Seattle, Mark still hadn't moved past calling her by her last name. There were a few times that he'd let it slip, but they were rare and only happened when he wasn't paying attention. Like when she found him asleep on the couch one night, the controller clutched in one hand and his other splayed out over his chest as he lightly snored and laid sprawled out comfortably. She put a blanket around him, wrestled the remote out of his hand and turned off the TV to leave him be. It was as she was tucking him in that he mumbled almost incoherently, "_Shouldn't molest a man in his sleep, Mer_." There were a few other moments, like when he'd been making a very hard dish for dinner and was distracted by the phone. It was Cristina calling and he shouted from the kitchen, "_Meredith, come talk to your crazy person_." Or when she had to wake him up extra early; he didn't respond to the flickering light treatment or the staring game, but he did react when she whispered: "My husband's home!" He startled awake then, looking confused and rather panicked, until he realized it was her and then he just rolled his eyes, covered his face with a pillow and mumbled, "_Go away, Meredith. Far, far away_." It was only when he was tired or distracted, like he was forcing himself not to call her by her first name other times. She didn't mind it, she just wondered why.

Meredith followed him down the hall and they paused briefly at Clarice's desk as she called out her farewells, sounding almost sad even though they'd be seeing her early the next morning. His hand found the small of her back as they made their way to the car and she reflected on how physically comfortable they'd become with each other in recent months. They weren't sleeping together; one of their rules was no sex with each other. They thought it was best to put down ground rules and they were kept simple for obvious reasons. One – no sleeping with each other, Two – no moping about the past, and C – no falling in love. They were basically celibate and dateless until they were sure that they were over Derek and Addison and no longer broken or lost. She thought it'd be a lot harder for Mark to give up sleeping around, but he didn't appear to be going through withdrawl at all, in fact he was quite at ease with everything.

"How does chicken parmesan sound tonight?" he asked, looking down and grinning.

Meredith smiled, nodding agreeably. "I love your chicken parmesan. Don't tell Izzie though, she'd be very jealous!" she said in a mock-warning voice.

"You should've told me sooner. I've secretly been phoning her to rub it in her face that you love my cooking more," he replied, smirking as they made it to the car.

Rolling her eyes, Meredith opened her door as he pushed the button on his keychain to unlock them. "She wouldn't believe you anyway. And she's a better baker than you," she told him, lifting a challenging brow.

"Those brownies were edible," he defended, starting the car and staring at her with lifted brows.

"Seriously? Those were _brownies_?" she asked, feigning surprise.

He laughed good-naturedly and directed the car out into the heavy traffic already congesting the streets. It'd be awhile before they were home yet, but she didn't mind. Their bickering was a source of amusement. It wasn't angry or mean like some people were with each other when they disagreed, but more teasing than anything. She liked this side of Mark; the more playful part of him that only came out around her. Far too many people were certain that he was just a smug jerk that screwed others over for his own satisfaction, but he had a lot more to him. She knew Cristina thought she had feelings for him, but she adamantly disagreed. So what if she found him attractive, funny, and intelligent? So what if the best part of her day was when she got to sit around and debate with him on the smallest of things? Or that she wouldn't trade their odd morning routine for a doting Derek that would give her anything she wanted and then some? That didn't mean anything, right?

"The Jamiesons called the other night. Wanted to see if we were interested in checking out that new Italian restaurant," he told her, turning the music down on the radio and looking over at her as they sat stuck in bumper to bumper traffic.

"Jamiesons… Rob and…. Kelsey, right? The, uh… adrenaline junkie couple," she said, lifting an uncertain brow.

Mark shook his head, leaning back in the seat and twisting his body to stretch his back a little. "No, you're thinking of the Parsons. Rob and Kelsey are the ones with kids, remember? Two, three, six, I don't know. They cancelled last week because one of their kids had the flu or something. We were supposed to go to—"

"That Jazz concert thing! Yeah, I remember them. And they have three kids; two girls and a boy," she said, nodding.

"Yeah, right, whatever. Anyway, Italian, this Saturday, what do you think?" he asked, shifting the car into the next lane which was moving much quicker.

"I thought we were going over to Jake and Cassie's this Saturday," she replied, shaking her head. "He finally convinced her into letting him get that pool table and she wanted to make us dinner with her new pans."

He grinned, nodding. "Yeah, the pool table." He frowned, looking over at her. "Why don't we have one of those?" he wondered, his brow furrowed.

"No room," she replied immediately, lifting a shoulder. She didn't add that she didn't really want one, because her original answer was logical enough. They had no need for a pool table and though she knew Mark simply enjoyed spending money because he had so much of it, she figured it was smarter not to let him do that. It wasn't as if she limited his spending, but recently he'd become a lot more cooperative in talking to her about what he was going to buy rather than just doing it and expecting her to make room for it. The last time he'd done that, they had a new bright red couch that didn't fit anywhere and a fish tank that he wasn't willing to take care of. She sent the couch back and gave the fish tank to the boy down the hall. When Mark whined that he got the fish because he wanted something else living around the apartment, she bought him a kitten. The grey tabby was fondly named "McSmokey," and though Mark feigned indifference for the tiny bundle of fur, she'd caught him cuddling the kitten numerous times.

"Right. You know, we could make room. We could turn your entire bedroom into an entertainment room," he said, a smirk turning up his lips.

"Oh, and we'd just, what, fit it all around my things?" she asked, lifting a brow.

"'Course not, that'd be too crowded. We'd move all your stuff out and fill the room with cool things. Get that fishtank back from that kid. Buy that couch back, and that pinball machine that I really _did_ want, maybe get another TV," he suggested, smirking.

"You have two TV's already, you don't need another," she replied, shaking her head. He opened his mouth, but she cut him off, "And don't start on that fridge with the TV inside it thing again. You like your ice dispenser too much and you can see the big screen from the kitchen."

He sighed with defeat, driving through the intersection as the light turned a vibrant green. "Fine. You sure know how to kill a man's hopes and dreams though, Grey."

"Seriously? Your hopes and dreams involved a TV in every room?" she asked, lifting a brow and letting out a laugh, shaking her head. "Just for that, I'm programming all the TV's to go back to the women's channel once every few hours."

He turned to her sharply, his expression one of annoyance. "Again? It took me three hours to fix that!"

"Your own fault," she told him, shrugging indifferently.

"That's it, Grey, you're banned from touching the remote!" he declared, swiping his hand as if it somehow made it so.

She laughed, shaking her head. "You can't ban me from the TV."

"I just did," he said, turning into their parking spot and climbing out of the car quickly.

Meredith chuckled, slipping out of the car and walking over to meet him as he walked toward the front doors of their building. He passed her the keys which she shifted around until she got to the right one, nodding at Robert the doorman and slipping her arm around Mark's as they walked toward the elevator. "The second your back is turned, Mark Sloan, it'll be the W channel all week long," she warned, her tone full of laughter.

Mark sighed, walking into the opened doors of the elevator and pressing their floor number. "You know what, now I'm not making your favourite roasted potatoes."

Frowning, Meredith looked up at him with frustration. "But that's the best part of having chicken parmesan," she half-whined.

Chuckling, he shrugged. "Who's sorry now?"

"Still you," she replied cheekily.

Scoffing, he didn't reply, instead watching as the numbers rose at the top of the elevator, tapping his foot absently to the elevator music playing faintly. She suddenly noticed that their arms weren't just wrapped around each other, but that their hands had somehow become entwined and with his lack of attention, he was playing with her fingers unconsciously. She noticed how large his hand was as it enveloped hers and how long his fingers were as they entwined and ran over hers. It was relaxing, rather intimate in how easily they fit together, and she knew then that she was on her way to breaking rule C without even trying. Cristina was going to laugh at her, she could hear it already. Mark didn't seem to notice what he was doing and as the elevator arrived, he simply clasped her hand and walked off of it, toward their apartment.

"I'll make the roasted potatoes if you'll call the Jamieson's and let them know we can't come because we've already made plans," he told her, his brows lifting with the proposition.

"I don't know. Italian sounds better than listening to you brag to Jake about how much better than him you are at pool," she said with a feigned uncertain sigh.

"I'll take you out for Italian tomorrow. I'm not up for listening to them talk about their kids all dinner. I want a weekend where nobody asks me if I can tell them whether or not their kid's runny nose is something serious," he told her, leaning against the doorframe as she unlocked their front door and walked inside. She kicked off her shoes as he helped her pull her coat off and hung them both up in the closet.

"Fine. But I want wine with dinner tonight," she told him, walking across to check the messages on the machine.

"Red or white?" he asked, making his way to the kitchen.

"Red," she replied after a moments hesitation. "There are seven messages," she said, rather surprised.

"From who?" he wondered, opening the fridge. "You want a beer?"

"Sure," she said, holding her hand out. "I don't know, I haven't played them yet." She felt the cool bottle being placed into her hand and retracted her arm. The tape rewound on the machine and she sat down on the arm of Mark's favourite chair to wait.

"_I don't know why I bother calling in the morning. You're always out already. What is your cell phone number again?_" Cristina's aggravated voice wafted out of the machine. "_Seriously, you have to call me. I have to talk to you! You're my person, you should just **know** when I need to talk to you. You know, if you were still here, I wouldn't have to call all the way over to New York to rant about this on your and McSteamy's machine. Ugh, Izzie is coming this way and she doesn't look happy. Gotta go._"

Mark snorted, sliding into his chair and leaning back so that he was reclined. His elbow sat comfortably on her thigh and Meredith wondered when and how they could've created this weird bond and not noticed it before. What else were they doing that she hadn't noticed? She tried to think back, but was distracted by the warm voice coming out of the machine.

"_Mark, sweetie, it's mom. I haven't heard from you since… well… Look, honey, I know things have been… rough… between you and Derek, but you know that the rest of us are still here for you. You're part of the family, Markie, and… just… Call me, please. Derek said you moved back six months ago, I was expecting a call…_" There was some shuffling and muffled whispers before finally, they ended it with, "_We miss you, sweetie, call home!_"

Meredith looked over at Mark, taking in his glowering expression. He didn't want to talk about it, she could tell, so instead of pushing the subject, she rubbed his bicep and kept her attention on the machine as it continued. There was a hang up and then a stuttered couple of words before the person, whoever it was, also hung up. Her brow furrowed, they didn't get many phonecalls since moving back. Work calls always went through Clarice and the only people that called them at home was Cristina and a the friends they'd made since coming back. Oddly, they were all married couples; most of which they'd run into at movies or dinner and just struck up a conversation. She wondered why when she was dating Derek, they didn't have couple friends. She was distracted once more by the next message, a relieved smile finding her mouth.

"_Hey Mark, Meredith, this is Rob. I know I said Kelsey and I were free this Saturday, but it looks like Darla's flu is back. Maybe we can reschedule for next week though. Sorry guys, we were really looking forward to it._" There was some crying and a small voice calling out for their dad before Rob added, "_Kelsey said she'll call Meredith later; something about a rash. I gotta go, we'll set something up later. Bye._"

Mark looked over at Meredith, frowning. "What part of being plastic surgeons makes them think we specialize in rashes and common colds?"

Meredith chuckled, shrugging.

"_Uh, hi, Mark, this is… uh, Addison. So… I was just… I mean, I heard from…_" She sighed, "_So you're back in New York from what I hear. I don't know why I'm calling, I just thought… I mean, I thought you were happy in Seattle. You were making a breakthrough with Derek, your job there was doing great. I thought you might've been there for something other than, well, me… and I just…_" She sighed again, now sounding more exasperated than anything. "_Look, I just wanted to make sure you were all right. I mean… You didn't exactly have a lot of friends outside of me and Derek and I was a little worried. So… just… call me, I guess. You know my cell number._"

Meredith frowned, looking over at Mark to find him scowling. "Not a lot of friends?" she said, surprised. "We can hardly get away from our friends," she told him, shaking her head.

He chuckled but it wasn't as hearty as usual. "I didn't hang out with many people besides Derek and Addison before everything… _happened_."

"Oh," she said, nodding. "Well, it's good to know that's not true anymore. I mean, I hope you and them can be friends again, but even if you aren't, you've got all your other friends now. They're not best friends or "persons" but they're fun to catch a movie with." Realizing she was rambling a bit, she shrugged, clearing her throat. "I like our friends," she declared.

Looking over at her, he nodded, a small smile on his mouth. "Me too."

The last was another hang up and Mark rose from his chair when the messages finished. "You really didn't earn those potatoes, Grey, now what are we gonna have with the chicken?" he teased, grinning back at her.

Scoffing, Meredith followed him in the kitchen. "Either you make them or I will," she warned.

Grimacing, he nodded. "Fine, fine, I give up. Just don't touch the food!" he exclaiming, laughing.

Rolling her eyes, Meredith tried to look annoyed but ended up chuckling. She hopped up onto the counter and nursed her beer as she watched him work, occasionally commenting or offering to help just to see him feign panic for a moment and then plead with her not to touch the food. When he was done putting dinner together, including a salad, they sat down to watch TV as it baked away in the oven. "We should watch a movie," Meredith told him, settling down on the couch and pulling the throw blanket off the back to wrap around herself.

Mark leaned back in his chair and looked over at her, half-smiling. "Not another chick-flick," he said, shaking his head.

"You liked it," she accused, moving her head to sit on her arms as she looked up at him from beneath her lashes.

He stared at her a moment, before finally saying, "I _put up_ with it."

"Whatever. You totally enjoyed it," she said, smiling.

Mark shook his head, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. "Comedy tonight," he said, though his voice wasn't demanding, but more suggestive.

"Fine. Comedy it is," she agreed, rolling off the couch and walking over to their stand of movies. She'd only brought a handful of her own DVD's along, but when she arrived he had so many she really didn't need to bother. Most of his were sports, comedy or action movies though, so within the last few months she'd added her own taste here or there and they had a mixture of every genre.

Her attention was pulled away from the movies as she surveyed the room, taking in just how much it had changed since she first moved in. When she arrived in New York, she thought perhaps moving in with Mark wasn't the sanest of ideas. It screamed bachelor at her. He had a kitchen that Izzie would kill for, with chrome features and black marble counters. There was a wine rack fully stocked and an espresso machine on the counters, both of which made her feel like she was at an open house. There were no feminine touches anywhere, just large couches and arm chairs, a big stereo and TV, a poker table set up with a mini fridge nearby, and a few few wall adornments that consisted of a dart board, framed baseball jersey, a 'dogs playing poker' print and a few vintage style paintings hung up. It was clean though, and she assumed that had more to do with a hired cleaner of some sort, though Mark didn't seem to be the type that wasn't fairly clean and precise.

But over the six months she lived with him, there were obvious female touches here or there. There were more pictures out, of family and friends and each other. Mark had never taken the time to buy picture frames or put out more sentimental objects. Coasters were put down on the table now to keep from rings and plants were placed randomly around the apartment to give it a more homey feeling. A heavy throw blanket was tossed over the back of the couch, because it seemed one of them was always falling asleep there and a few small pillows were put in the corners of the loveseat and couch too. She never touched his armchair, because it was all his, but she couldn't help but buy a few magnets for the fridge and put a novelty key holder up on the wall by the door. The apartment became less his and more theirs with only a few things here or there and she loved it.

She heard Mark clicking his tongue and looked over at him to see he was still leaning back in his chair, his hands stacked on his abdomen and his eyes closed. But a still half-asleep McSmokey was hurrying over to him. The grey ball of fur jumped up toward his lap but only made it to his knee before he had to dig his nails in and climb up into Mark's lap. Mark grimaced but reached out to grab the kitten and lift him up to lay on his chest. From where Meredith knelt by the DVD rack, she could hear the loud purring coming from the kitten as it nuzzled Mark's neck and snuggled into his chest. She smiled, pulling out one of his favourite comedies in hopes that it would relax him. The two phone messages seemed to bother him and she didn't want him wallowing. After popping it into the DVD player, she stood up and moved back to the couch, grabbing the blanket and wrapping it around her again; it smelled lightly of him. They wouldn't start the movie for a little while yet, they always ate dinner at the table or bar and that was one of their many times to just talk and relax. It surprised her sometimes, how they didn't really get bored of each other. Even when neither of them had anything to say, the silence was never stifling.

Mark cracked an eye and looked over at her as he gave in and pet the cuddly kitten. "You picked Caddyshack, didn't you?" he asked, smirking.

Her eyes widened slightly, "How'd you know? You peeked! Didn't you?"

Laughing, he shook his head, smiling to himself. "I just know you, Grey."

For some reason, those words made her heart flutter. He was right, too. He knew her. Better than a lot of people in her life, she realized. Derek never would have guessed. Neither would Cristina. But Mark, he knew. Eyes closed, off in thought, he just _knew_. She wondered what that _meant_ for them.

**To be continued...**

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**A/N** _Found a computer! Unfortunately, I'm not sure how often I'll be able to use it. So enjoy this update and I'll try and get another to you soon. I'm working on "A Dark and Twisty Happily Ever After," so I hope to have an update to it soon too! Please review!_


	4. Three: Friendship

_**Starting From Scratch **_

_Chapter Three _

-

"_Much of the vitality in a friendship lies in the honoring of differences, not simply in the enjoyment of similarities._"

**-**

_The best part of a friendship is the laughter. Be it from something funny, something absurd, something unexpected. Being able to laugh with somebody, knowing they're thinking the same as you, seeing their joy and feeling that same burst inside of yourself. There's nothing like sharing laughter and joy with a friend. It's uplifting. It overshadows everything else. It becomes something you live for; a moment you strive for. That next moment you'll laugh so hard you'll have to grip your sides. That moment where you make your friend laugh and feel that bolstering warmth in your chest. Sometimes, sharing that with a friend is more important than anything else. Friendship is not a goal, want, or hope, it's a necessity._

Saturday arrived quicker than expected. Mark had the unfortunate task of trying to explain the surgery he had to perform on the six year old Coby Smith, a boy who despite his disfigurement was quite inquisitive and talkative. The young boy carefully avoided talking about his parents at all and basically avoided even looking at his aunt, but Mark assumed that was because whenever he did his aunt cringed. With Meredith's help, they were able to convince Coby he'd be happier with his face later, even if he did enjoy how gruesome he looked. Only a boy could think looking as if his face was turned inside out was "cool". The aunt was still unsure about the surgery but faced with the idea that she'd have to look at him as he was every day, she was becoming less uncertain.

The surgery was marked for the end of the next week because he still needed a little time to heal from the brain surgery performed by an out-of-town surgeon that Mark hadn't met at the time. Apparently the AP always brought the same doctor in for anything involving the brain, but he wouldn't work on the staff permanently. With his job flourishing, Mark was looking forward to the weekend. It was packed with hanging out with numerous couples, but the mornings were all his and Meredith's. He habitually took the weekends off, figuring if anybody was in dire need of his assistance, they'd get a hold of him or wait for the regular work week.

Since getting back, he and Meredith hadn't had much time to wallow. They had their moments where they missed the people that had them searching for a better beginning, but they both wholeheartedly agreed that Addison and Derek simply weren't the people they were meant to be with. Not after all that the relationships had caused; the hurt, pain, anxiety, and loss. They wanted something different; something more. Mark could've just returned to New York and his old ways but he'd been so hellbent on having forever with Addison that he now couldn't think of anything but finding someone to fulfill that desire. He wanted more than just a fling or one-night stand, but he wasn't about to jump into a relationship right away. He was content in the friendships he had and the healing that was becoming his main goal.

"Mark?" Meredith's voice called out to him.

"You ready yet?" he called back, lifting a brow as he searched through the channels on their wide screen TV. He knew she wasn't. This was the designated time for her to lose a shoe and spend an ungodly amount of time searching for it. It didn't matter what pair she was planning on wearing or where they were going, she always managed to lose one of them. It was an endearing quality, oddly enough, but he wasn't about to tell her that. He thought it an amusing quirk when it wasn't happening, but when it was, he couldn't help but wish he could set up a tracking device on them so he'd always know where they were. Turning his head to one side in thought, he wondered how much it would cost to do just that to all of her shoes.

"Almost," she called back, her voice vaguely hesitant. "Uh, you haven't seen those black flats I bought a couple months ago, have you? Those ones with the pink bow on the..." She paused and then he could hear her muttering to herself and smirked to himself, chuckling lightly. He was used to this by now, which is why he told her Jake and Cassie were expecting them at six, when really they told him six-thirty. That gave her thirty minutes to rush around looking for the elusive shoe.

Settling on the news, he leaned back in his armchair and sighed at the upset somebody caused somewhere about something. The news barely changed; something was always wrong. While the world outside of his life was always in a constant turmoil, he could at least be happy that for the last six months, he'd enjoyed a relatively painless time. He still wondered sometimes, while lying alone in his bed and knowing that tomorrow would be just the same, with nobody to kiss or share a shower with or lay with on the couch for an entire morning, wasting away the time, if it was worth it. He could go out and find somebody to satisfy the loneliness at least for a night, but he knew that in the morning they'd be gone. Maybe they'd leave a note with their name, number, and a sassy, "Call me," with a smeared lipstick imprint, but they weren't interested in forever. So they enjoyed his skills in bed, he was proud of the fact, but he didn't want that anymore. It was empty and lately he was tired of how empty he'd been feeling.

At least with Meredith he knew he would see a friendly face in the morning and she more than fulfilled that little bit of companionship that he needed. She was the voice he needed to hear when he woke up, the person sitting next to him in the car as he navigated the congested New York streets, and she filled in for those little physical touches too. He wasn't waking up with her in his arms or enjoying the caress of her mouth whenever he pleased, but she naturally linked her arm with his when they walked or laid her head in his lap when she was getting comfortable on the couch and watching a movie with him. He wasn't surprised that so many of their friends thought they were at the very least a couple, they had an intimacy that was bred of six long months of spending all of their time together. He wouldn't trade it for anything, he just wished he could have that little bit more.

Lost in his thoughts, he jumped slightly when a mildly breathless Meredith appeared beside him. "Okay. Let's go," she told him, reaching down and taking the remote from his hand to turn off the TV before tossing it on the couch. She walked toward the door, her expression impatient. "We're already fifteen minutes late, hurry up," she ushered, searching through the closet for her coat quickly.

Half-smiling to himself, he stood up from the chair and leisurely walked to the door, taking hold of her coat and slipping it over her shoulders, amused with the small struggled she was having as it got rolled up behind her. She grabbed the keys off the hook and followed him out the door, locking it up tight. He held his hand out and she dropped the set of keys into his palm before he slipped them in the inside pocket of his jacket. Her arm slipped through his as she walked next to him to the elevator and he caught sight of them in the gleaming silver of the closed elevator doors. Her hair was pulled up in a pony tail, her bangs slipping over her eyes and brushing her nose. She was dressed fairly casually, wearing a nice black blouse and a pair of dark blue jeans. He looked down, seeing the black flats with the pink bow on her feet and smiling to himself. She never gave up on whatever pair she planned to wear, even if she found a pair of shoes just as good and ready to wear. Next to him, dressed just as causally with a black dress shirt left untucked and a pair of expensive jeans, they looked like the epitome of the comfortable couple. They were both wearing dark coats, hers with extra large buttons on the front, making it appear more fashionable, reaching down to her knees, while he wore his regular black bomber. They looked good together, he decided.

As they passed through the front hall, Meredith waved hello to the security guard, Jim, and then smiled warmly at the night doorman who tipped his head in greeting. They crossed to their silver car, her arm tightening around his as she shivered slightly from the chill in the air. He let her go so she could walk around to her side and briefly wondered over why his arm felt empty as she left. There was no doubt that she was the closest person in his life and he knew he shouldn't get too attached, but he couldn't help it. As he pushed the button to unlock the doors, she hurriedly climbed in and he slipped into the driver's seat, turning on the car and not surprised to see her immediately fiddle with the heat and then the radio.

"We're going to be so late," she muttered, frowning to herself.

"They're used to it," he replied, smiling to himself. He knew he could've told her that they still had time, but then she might just assume in future that he was lying about the time again and that would completely defeat the purpose.

She rolled her eyes, a rebuttal over the fact that she didn't do this every time probably sitting on the end of her tongue, instead of telling him so though, she found a song she liked and began murmuring the lyrics to herself as he pulled out onto the street and towards Cassie and Jake's condo.

The drive was just the same as it always was, which was oddly comforting for him. She refused to let him check the traffic report and he got tired of listening to the same old soft rock songs that were on every time they got in the car. New York drivers weren't the nicest bunch but he was used to that by now and drove through the hustle and bustle like a pro. They pulled into their friends parking lot with time to spare, at least to his knowledge, Meredith was still hurrying out of the car. Locking it up, he waited for her to come around the car and took her hand as they ran across the street, careful of traffic, to the front door, pushing the number and waiting. Meredith hopped back and forth from foot to foot, already cold but didn't whine. Her hand was still sitting warmly in his and he couldn't deny how comfortable it always felt there.

After buzzing in, they caught the elevator to the third floor and knocked briefly before hearing Jake call for them to enter. He was already setting up the table to play pool while the clatter of pans could be heard from the kitchen. Meredith unbuttoned her coat and out of habit, Mark pulled it off her shoulders and tossed it over his arm.

"Hey guys," Jake greeted, his eyes still on the table as he pulled a second stick down from the wall attachment.

"Hey Mer, Mark," Cassie called out to them.

Hanging Meredith's jacket up on the peg nearby, Mark pulled his own off and did the same. He kicked his shoes off and made his way over to Jake while Meredith waved at him and then left to talk to his wife. Jake and Cassie were a couple he and Meredith had met back when they'd first come to New York. While at a horror movie that turned out to be utterly pitiful, they struck up a conversation with the two as they were not so quietly making fun of the movie. Married for over three years, Cassie and Jake said they were happy to have friends who weren't into the baby fanatic going on. It seemed all of their couple friends were having kids and they just weren't interested yet. For the longest time, they had simply assumed Mark and Meredith were together and were surprised to find they were only friends, colleagues, and roommates. Cassie constantly hinted that there should be something more while Jake left it all alone, having no opinion on it. Every once in awhile, he'd comment that Mark should get himself out there to date more, but he wasn't pushy about it and didn't offer any nice single women he knew for a blind date, thankfully.

They were a nice couple; the type of people Mark didn't feel like he had to put a show on for. He enjoyed just hanging out with them on a Friday night and getting a pizza or playing pool. Jake was a regular at guys poker night and always enjoyed a good baseball game. Cassie was more Meredith's friend but he figured that was because he wasn't really used to talking to women without at least flirting. He didn't want to come off as the guy who was interested in screwing up his friends marriage, again, so he was careful around the women. It became a habit to put more focus on Meredith than them, if only to get out of coming off like he was paying too much attention to them, and before he knew it, he naturally felt inclined to pay more of his attention to Meredith than other women. He wasn't worried about slipping up and sleeping with any of them, not only because they were all secure in their relationships and just not interested in him that way, but because he found after time that desire wasn't as prominent. He didn't feel like he had to prove he could get any woman, regardless of status, but respected boundaries a little more. Especially if he'd found friendship with them and their spouses. It seemed hypocritical for him to respect a marriage between people he'd only known months when he hadn't for Derek who he'd known decades, but that was just how it happened. He'd learned from that mistake and he worked hard never to make it again.

"Ready to lose, doc?" Jake asked, grinning as he handed the stick off to him and moved around the table to set up a shot.

Laughing lightly, Mark threw him a confident look. "Care to put money on it?"

Jake's eyes narrowed suspiciously but he shrugged anyway. "How much?"

A slow smirk appeared and Mark knew he was in for a good night. If he played this right, he'd have enough to get another fish tank. His mind wandered to where he'd put it.

OoOoOoO

Licking her lips, Meredith nodded, a pleased expression passing her face. "I'd ask for the recipe, but you'd just laugh at me. I'm sure Mark will get it off you before we leave," Meredith said, grinning.

Chuckling, Cassie nodded. She was pretty in a natural way, with long wavy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She worked as a counselor at a high school nearby and had a strong personality that sometimes looked out of place on her rather small form. She was short, quite thin, and gave off a gentle and almost meek appearance, while she was anything but. Meredith considered her an odd mixture of Izzie and Cristina, which in her mind seemed almost insane but in the form of Cassie, it worked.

"I wouldn't give it to you if you asked. A masterpiece like this, charred and burned, it'd be a mockery to food everywhere," she said bluntly.

Meredith shrugged it off, smiling all the same. "Well, Mark won't ruin it. If I get nothing out of moving to New York, at least I eat well."

"Nothing? I'm offended," she replied, lifting a blonde brow. "I'll have you know my friendship is highly sought out. You should be honored," she said, pointing the wooden spoon in her hand at Meredith who sat on the counter with a bottle of Corona in her hand.

"Oh, I am. Deeply," Meredith told her, with a mock apologetic expression and a hand pressed to her chest. "Just last night, I was telling Mark that we should send you a gift basket, we're so happy you lend yourself to our underprivileged selves." She paused for effect. "You like cheese, right?"

Laughing, Cassie shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Yes. Very much. Stinky, blue, cheddar, all of it. I'll expect it soon."

Amusement filled Meredith but she couldn't help but wonder how Cristina would like Cassie. Her Seattle person wasn't the most likable friend, nor did she take a liking to many, but she was still Meredith's best friend and she found herself missing her more and more. Phone calls were nice, but sometimes they reminded her of how much distance was put between her and Cristina. She loved being in New York, it had an exhilarating and freeing atmosphere, but she still missed her friends. If they'd move to New York, she could see herself staying permanently. It was the only subject she didn't touch often with Mark; her deliberation on whether she'd end up staying in New York or going back. She knew she still had some healing to do and some moving on to accomplish, so she wasn't leaving anytime soon. But Cristina continued to push for her to come back and she knew Izzie and George were worried about whether she'd return.

There were some mornings where she wondered if maybe she was ready, but then she'd see Mark making breakfast or napping on the couch and she'd think she needed more time. She wasn't sure if it was the leaving him part that kept her there or her own uncertainty about Seattle that kept her in New York. She loved knowing she'd see him each morning; that he'd be making her breakfast or driving her to their work or that he'd simply be sitting in his armchair, watching TV or reading the newspaper. He'd unexpectedly become somebody she relied on wholly. They'd created a routine and a friendship that she lived off of. She wasn't sure how she'd do if she returned to Seattle without him. He didn't want to go back though, she knew that, he never left her wondering on that. He thrived in New York; he had his practice, new friends, his apartment, and a city that he simply belonged in. And maybe he could have had that in Seattle but nobody gave him the chance and it just left him empty. For that, she sometimes hated Seattle. When the time came for her to decide whether she'd stay or go back, she had no idea what she'd choose.

"You think you can handle a salad or should I call in McSteamy?" Cassie asked cheekily.

Meredith smiled, reminded of how amused Jake was when he found out the name the interns had gifted Mark with. While Mark had been amused by it when he found out, he didn't like how effeminate it made him sound when the likes of Jake heard of it. Cassie enjoyed the rolling of his eyes whenever she used it though and Meredith enjoyed the little bit of home that she felt whenever the title was used.

"I'm good with salad. Just tell me what you want in it," she told her, hopping down from the counter and putting her beer down.

"Cass? You're not letting Mer cook are you?" Jake's voice called out from the pool table, hesitation and worry evident in his tone.

Mark's laughter could be heard. "She's probably only allowed to make the salad. She's never ruined one before."

"How does he do that?" Meredith wondered. She swore he had like a sixth sense when it came to her.

Cassie shrugged. "He just knows you." She smiled to herself and Meredith saw that same glean in her eye that she always got when she was about to list the reasons she and Mark would be better off as more. "You know, very few people really know each other that well. It's a sign that you two fit well together. Don't you think?" Meredith didn't reply, mostly because she knew that Cassie wasn't done. "When me and Jake first got together, I thought he was the most arrogant guy I'd ever met. I don't know why I kept dating him really, but after awhile, it was like he paid attention to things not even I noticed." She passed the lettuce, tomato, mushrooms, a box of croutons, a cucumber, carrot, and a bottle of bacon bits to her. Putting a hand on her hip, she leaned the other against the counter, her chin turned up as she fell into her thoughts. "We'd go out for coffee and he'd automatically get what I liked in it from the counter; two creams, one sugar - that real stuff, none of that Sweet'N Low crap. Or he'd pick up take-out for dinner and show up at my apartment and he'd have bought an extra egg roll or a separate Caesar salad knowing how much I like them. He learned by favorite movies or books and he'd watch or read them, just so he'd have something to talk to me about. It was things like that, the little things he noticed, that really made me realize that he was... _it_." She lifted a brow, staring at Meredith intensely for a moment before saying, "You got everything you need there?"

Meredith broke her eyes away and looked down at the assemble of ingredients for the green salad she was about to make. Picking up the mushroom, she handed it back and then moved to the sink to wash her hands. "Mark's allergic to mushrooms."

Cassie simply smiled.

OoOoOoO

"So what'd the missus say when you told her you want a pool table too?" Jake asked, closing one eye and lining up a shot.

Mark leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest comfortably. He half-smirked as Jake's shot missed just short by half an inch. "Something about space," he told him, shrugging. "We are short on that though. The poker area is the best place for it and there's no where else it can go." He moved across to take his shot, forcing the sound of Meredith and Cassie's laughter out of his ears so he could concentrate. His shot landed in the left corner pocket and he stood up, grinning. Jake rolled his eyes but he smiled all the same.

"You convinced her to get that fish tank back yet?" Jake wondered.

Snorting, Mark shook his head, shooting another ball into the right side pocket. "No, and even if I did, the kid likes it too much. Whenever he or his mother see me they stop to thank me profusely. I didn't want to give it up to begin with." His next shot missed but he blamed it on the fact that he could see Meredith throwing her head back and laughing as she leaned against the counter. Her face lit up and her mouth fell open, her laughter loud and joyful. Standing up, he played his folly on the table off as if it was nothing and moved to lean against the wall again as Jake moved forward to take his shot.

"Fish don't do anything anyway. They just sit in a tank. You should get a dog, at least they move." Jake managed to knock two balls into separate slots, causing him stand up and grin smugly at Mark.

Mark thought over the suggestion, wondering what it'd be like to have a dog. He knew Meredith had lost her own awhile back and wasn't sure if she'd like having another around. McSmokey was a good enough pet as it was; constantly affectionate. which Mark pretended to dislike though he did enjoy it at times. A dog would probably need more attention though. "I'll bring it up," he said, shrugging one shoulder. He'd always loved the colors tropical fish had. They were exotic and eye catching, but quite expensive. And Jake was right, they did nothing but float around, dirty the water and expect you to feed them.

"I wanted a dog but Cass didn't think we'd have enough time or space for it." His next shot missed and he moved to the side as Mark took over again. "She doesn't think the city is a good place for a dog anyway."

"She bring up moving out of the city area again?" Mark wondered, sinking a couple balls and looking over at his friend.

"She hasn't brought it up but I saw a few print outs for houses in Bayside," Jake told him, half-frowning.

"Bayside," Mark repeated, mild surprise in his voice. He and Meredith lived on the Upper East Side, just a fifteen minute drive from them. While Cassie's job wasn't the best paying career, Jake worked as a well known lawyer and had a large check coming to him every couple weeks. They comfortably lived in a privileged condo area, but they'd said before that they'd like to branch out to a more of a neighborhood. Mark assumed they meant when they were thinking of having children though, which was still something neither Cassie nor Jake had any real hurry to have.

"Yeah." Jake sighed, shrugging. "We'll probably be the only couple on the block who doesn't have children and won't for awhile yet."

"Well, at least you'll have the expected dog," Mark told him, smirking.

Snorting, Jake rolled his eyes and watched as Mark shot another ball into the pocket. The game was coming to a close and it was obvious it was in Mark's favor. He would be out fifty bucks by the end of the night, but it was fun all the same. If his wife asked, he wasn't admitting anything. Both Meredith and Cassie chastised that the two men spent money on frivolities, fun or not.

"Guys? Dinner's ready," Cassie's voice reached them.

Smirking, Mark shot the last ball and cleared the table of all of his. "What was it you said to me? Prepare to lose?" he asked, lifting a brow as he leaned back against the table. "I believe you owe me fifty well deserved dollars."

Snorting, Jake rolled his eyes. "Remind me after dinner. My wallet's in my bedroom and I don't want to explain it to Cassie."

"Wimp," Mark bugged before putting his stick up on the rack and moving toward the dining room.

"If you'd lost, would you have admitted it to Meredith?" Jake shot back, lifting a challenged brow.

"Of course," he replied, shrugging a shoulder. Under his breath, he added. "She's the only one who remembers where I put my wallet."

Hearing him, Jake laughed as they reached the table and slid into their seats. Jake and Cassie sat across from them at the rectangular table covered in a red table cloth. Mark hid his amused smile as Jake's eyes automatically went toward the salad to see if it was at all edible. Noticing, Meredith snickered. "Cassie was right beside me. She caught my hand before I dropped the arsenic in as dressing," she said, rolling her eyes.

"I don't think you can cook, I never said anything about being able to read. Besides, you're a doctor, you'd notice the skull and bones," Jake replied easily.

Reaching out, Mark grabbed the salad and handed it to Jake. "Go on then, I dare you."

Jake stared for a moment, his expression barely concealing his uncertainty.

"Double dare you," Mark added, chuckling. It was childish and he reveled in it.

Jake sighed, his eyes thinning.

"Oh please," Cassie said, grabbing the bowl and filling her plate with some and digging it without preamble. A second later she faked choking, her eyes dramatically rolling back. Meredith took it all in good humor and shook her head at the act. Swallowing, Cassie laughed and spooned some onto Jake's plate, ignoring his still wary expression.

Plates filled to the brim, the conversation flowed easily. Beer, wine, and a tall glass of water for Cassie sat amongst the table. A basket of French bread occupied the middle of the table and Mark was reminded briefly of how Cassie's table setting sometimes reminded him of a restaurant, without the stranger serving the food. Dinner was eaten leisurely, cooling over the time they spent talking about work, friends, and sharing the odd humorous story. Mark couldn't remember a time he'd really enjoyed himself so much in years. He, Addison, and Derek had shared these moments but it felt like a lifetime ago. Back before Derek was working far too much and Addison was looking for somebody to fill the loneliness. Before Mark had seen a moment of opportunity and took it despite the consequences. He didn't have to worry about that now though. He was just with friends, with the people that could make him laugh freely and loudly. There was a lightness in his chest and for once in six months, he knew without a doubt that he was well on his way to healing and had no doubt that he'd made the absolute right choice in leaving Seattle.

After dinner was finished, Meredith helped Cassie clean up, putting the dishes away in the dishwasher and wiping down the table and counters. Mark and Jake looked through the DVD collection and checked the movie listings on the satellite, looking for something to wind down to. Sunday was a sleep in day for him and Meredith, so they weren't worried about how late they stayed out. Choosing a comedy, the four sprawled out in the living room. Cassie and Jake took up a comfortable position holding each other on the loveseat while Meredith laid out on the couch, her feet propped up in Mark's lap. His hand automatically fell to slip around one of her ankles, fingers smoothing over the curve of her foot and down around her heel. Used to this behavior, she simply watched the screen, her body lying on her side, one arm propped beneath her head while the other sat across her hip.

Mark found the great part about watching a movie with Jake and Cassie was that they were the same as him and Meredith; they enjoyed talking throughout the movie, about whatever they liked or disliked. While Mark would comment to the people watching with him, Meredith was the kind of person who talked directly to the characters, as if her criticisms could be heard as they acted. Jake and Cassie followed the same ritual, so the four of them always enjoyed a movie, without having to worry about shushing or annoying each other.

By the end of the movie, Meredith had traded positions so her head was where her feet had been, while he had moved so he was leaning against the arm of the couch, his legs propped up. Her head fell comfortably onto his stomach, her arm curving across his legs, hand laying against his hip. His own arm fell around her shoulder, fingers playing with the strands of her hair after she pulled her ponytail out. He didn't question this as it had become a natural reaction that both of them had simply embraced rather than pondered. He excused it as a natural human desire for physical closeness, despite knowing that in the past he'd only ever had Addison as a female best friend and only touched her without hesitation after they'd made their dive into adultery. He'd seen other men with women as friends and he knew that they weren't as physical, probably to keep that boundary set, but he wasn't giving it up unless she told him it had to stop. It wasn't as if they were really doing anything wrong.

"You guys want dessert?" Cassie asked after the credits rolled on the movie. She stood up from the loveseat, smoothing out her shirt and looking over at Meredith and Mark as they lay with their legs entwined. Mark didn't miss the approving smile on her face and would've rolled his eyes if he didn't somewhat agree with her. There was part of him that wondered if maybe he and Meredith should just make the jump, but a more cautious part that he'd never really listened to in the past warned him that Meredith was the most important person in his life and he wasn't willing to risk that for a possible attraction. He didn't know if she was just leaning on the physical comfort because he was the only real close friend she had with him. He was the guy she spent 24/7 with, it was natural for her to feel inclined to comfort around him. They naturally moved together, arms wrapping around each other, bodies matching one another's gait, heads inclining to each other when they were speaking. There was a flow to them all it's own and he knew that others perceived it as more than friendship, but he was unwilling to make that move yet.

Lifting her head, Meredith grinned. "What do you have?"

"A strawberry cheesecake," Cassie replied, a slow smile appearing before she licked her lips.

"Ooh, I'm in." Meredith hopped up off the couch, her legs untangling from Mark's and her hands moving to push her hair behind her ears.

While they were in the kitchen, Jake left to his room to get the money he owed Mark, handing it over to him and then slipping his wallet into his pants just as the girls came back. Plopping down beside him, Meredith handed him a plate with a slice of dessert and then settled back in the couch to eat hers. "You know what's great about New York?" she asked him, turning slightly to face him.

He looked over at her, his mouth filled with the tasty flavor of cheesecake and strawberries. He tipped his head to tell her to continue.

"I have a_ two_ Izzie's to make my every meal," she told him, chuckling. "I swear, between you and Cassie, I'll be fat in no time." She took another bite of her cheesecake and then patted her flat stomach.

Mark lifted a disbelieving brow and swallowing he shook his head. "I'm a plastic surgeon, I've got the tools to save your figure," he joked.

Meredith snorted, but before she could reply, Cassie brought her into a conversation about how much space the pool table took up and how she thought it might be nice to get a bigger place. Mark sat back, only able to get through half the cheesecake before he felt too full. He challenged Jake to another game and they left the two women to their talking.

A little over an hour later, he and Meredith were crossing the street to their car. It'd be nearly midnight by the time they got home and Mark could feel the tiredness creeping in. He looked forward to spending most of the morning in his bed or on his armchair, surfing the channels on his TV and chatting with Meredith. It was nice not to be on call as much as he had been in Seattle; to have a designated day to relax. Saturdays were always filled with outings and friends and just generally out in the city, but Sundays he was allowed to laze around in sweatpants and a muscle shirt, sprawled out with no plans of doing anything.

As he pulled out onto the less busy streets, Meredith turned to him in her seat, her hand fiddling with the radio. "So how much did you squeeze out of Jake this time?"

Mark laughed. "He went double or nothing in the end," he told her, shaking his head. "An easy two hundred." He turned to her, smirking. "I told you I was good at pool."

Snorting, she rolled her eyes, but smiled as she sat back in her seat. "No fishtanks," she told him firmly, her eyes turned to his seriously.

Frowning, he sighed. Inside, he felt rather comforted in the fact that she knew him so well. As the soft rock channel filled the silence of the car, Mark's eyes moved from the road to Meredith. Her eyes were closed, her head leaned back on the headrest as she mouthed the words to the songs. Her hand rested on her thigh, fingers drumming out the beat to the music. The song was vaguely familiar, but he didn't pay much attention to it, instead he fell into his thoughts. As he drove along the streets, directing their way home, he wondered if one day all of the predictions of their friends, all of the wondering he'd done himself, would all turn out with the two of them becoming something more. It wasn't something he dreaded or even disliked for a future course. He just hoped that if they did get together, it was the _right_ choice, and not another of the mistakes each relationship either of them had been in turned out to be. He hoped that when the time came for them to make a decision on friendship or more, they picked right.

As a new song began, Meredith reached out, her hand curling around one of his. He looked over to her to find she was still lost in the music, eyes closed, posture relaxed. He wasn't sure if she even noticed what she'd done, but he enjoyed it for what it was. If nothing changed in their relationship, he'd be happy, and if it did, he had high hopes that it would become that forever relationship in his life.

Softly, he could hear her singing, "_Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road, time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go, so make the best of this test, and don't ask why, it's not a question, but a lesson learned in time. It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right. I hope you had the time of your life..."_

* * *

**A/N **_Was able to get away and to a computer. I already have the next chapter written and I'm half done a chapter to "A Dark and Twisty Happily Ever After." Hope you enjoyed this. I know some of you were interested in Mark's thoughts, so here you go. Please review, it's appreciated!_


	5. Four: More

**_Starting From Scratch _**

_Chapter Four _

-

"_Friendship often ends in love; but love in friendship never_." - **_Charles Caleb Colton _**

**-**

_Friendship can get us through the hardest of times. It picks us up when we're sure nothing else can, listens to us when we ramble through our tears, and pushes us forward to a better future. Some friendships are made only to be platonic, to be there through out romantic woes, while others are there to pick up our heart and repair it. The shift from friend to lover is a rough one; you can never be sure if it'll work and the worry that it won't keeps us from trying it. But sometimes, friendship evolves, whether we want it to or not. _

"Grey? You still here?" Mark called out, his voice being nearly drowned entirely out by the heavy rush of the shower. The phone was ringing incessantly and since he was waiting for a call from Chief Amory of Allen Pavilion, he didn't want to miss it. Meredith had said she was going out to get dinner though, since the Italian restaurant wouldn't deliver and they didn't feel like going out. When she didn't answer and the ringing continued, he finally gave up and climbed out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it haphazardly around his waist before hurrying out the door toward the living room, barefoot and dripping. Just as he reached the beginning of the bar, he heard Meredith's voice as she picked up the phone.

"Hello?" He stared at her a moment, wondering why it took so long for her to get it if she were still there, then realized the door was wide open and she was dressed to leave. Mark walked closer to her, turning his head to the side in question, wondering if he needed to wait around or if he could get back to his shower. She looked over at him, her eyes falling on his bare torso and her expression becoming blank as she apparently forgot whatever it was she was going to say. "What? Oh, right, yes. No, he's right here. Sorry, I was on my way out and he was stuck in the shower." She bit her lip, her eyes flickering up to meet his and this time avoiding looking at his bare body.

Mark smirked, enjoying the flush that rose across her cheeks. Despite their little pact to just stay friends, he couldn't deny the attraction he had for her. Mixed with the affection he'd grown for her, his attachment to her was dangerously close to becoming a lot more than it should. Their living arrangements didn't leave them much time apart and though he thought he'd get annoyed having a woman around so often, he actually grew to rely on their comfortable routine. Their mornings were busy and started earlier than he'd like, but they had their own way of getting through the haste and tiredness, while the nights were free for them to relax. They had a lot of friends they'd met over the last few months of living together and so they were never hard up for somebody to hang out with at movies or to go out for dinner with. Mark was surprised to find how easily he slipped into a relationship that involved everything but sexual intimacy. It should have been the hardest part, but aside from the moments where he couldn't take his eyes off of Meredith, he found that he was oddly content with the other aspects of his life.

Addison was his first love; the only women to make him consider a long term relationship. Forever had never been a concept he'd cared to explore. He loved living the life of a bachelor; of having a different beautiful woman whenever he pleased and not having to worry about a nagging wife or somebody he'd have to explain himself to every day. But when he saw how happy Derek and Addison were, he couldn't help but want it too. He just couldn't find a woman that met up to the standards he'd created in his mind; the standards Addison Montgomery set. And he'd had her; like every woman before her, she too had fallen for his wit and good looks. Unfortunately, he'd seen more in it than she had and when she left to get Derek back, he chased after her in hopes that she'd see she was better off with him. That she'd see he loved her far more than Derek ever could and he wouldn't ignore her like Derek had. But nothing turned out like planned and Mark found himself with a very broken heart; one he wasn't willing to risk again.

When he saw Meredith standing in the rain, broken and finished, he knew he'd found an equal. He'd heard around the hospital that Derek and Meredith had broken up; that he'd slept with Lexie Grey, Meredith's half-sister. Derek had already broken Meredith before, more times than either would account for, and Mark could see just how done she was with all of it. It was probably selfish and stupid of him to offer her a place in New York. He should've told her to go back and try and fix it, or at the very least to stay and face her demons. But when he saw her eyes, those usually vibrant green eyes that spoke volumes of the person who owned them, he knew that all she needed and wanted was an escape. Since he was already contemplating leaving and just needed that last final push, he figured there wasn't a better time to throw in the towel. They were on the next flight out of Seattle and while the plane ride was filled with a thick underlying doubt, he found himself doing all he could to distract her. Usually, he'd just let her wallow, but since he was beginning to feel like he'd dragged her away when she still could have had a chance, he suddenly decided he wasn't going to be another mistake of hers. He wanted her to want to be in New York. He wanted her to want to be on that plane, with him. He wanted her to want to leave Seattle and Derek and all the crap that she had to deal with. And maybe it was partly selfish, but deep down he knew he wanted it because she deserved to be happy and he thought he might be able to help her get there.

The apartment was just as he'd left it, with all of his furniture just as it was, the dishes still in their cupboards, and boxes leaning against the walls, waiting to be filled. Despite how cold and empty it was, it was still home. He'd felt a freeing sensation envelop him from the moment the plane touched down and after he entered his apartment, he finally felt himself relax. There was no drama here; no angry best friends or regretful ex lovers. It was just him and Grey, in a silent apartment that had been set up for a bachelor. They called out for dinner, plopped down on the couch, and the first friendly words out of her mouth in a lot of hours were, "You want to watch a movie?" They relaxed after that, remembering that they didn't have a past except for flirty banter and an honest almost-friendship.

Things were easier after the immediate awkwardness; they let their guards down and found they could be good friends. While showing her the sights of the city, they met couples and tentative friendships were formed outside of just one another. They created a social life that involved each other more than just friends should. Most people that met them assumed they were together and while they constantly had to explain that they were just really good friends, Mark couldn't deny that he thought a relationship with Meredith wouldn't be the worst to happen to him. She was attractive, intelligent, funny and had a quirkiness to her that he found endearing. She got him better than any woman before her and there was a comfortable feeling between them that he hadn't expected. She was one of few people that didn't end up annoying him just by being around.

"Mark?" her voice interrupted his thoughts and he realized she was holding the phone out to him. Clearing his throat, he took the phone and immediately took up his professional persona as he talked to Amory about their newest patient. Coby Smith didn't entirely understand what good would come out of the surgery, but he'd appreciate it later. The timeline for the surgery was bothering Amory though and Mark was getting tired of it being changed constantly. Originally, he'd planned on doing it as early as possible, then Amory changed it to the end of the following week, just two days away, but now he wasn't sure. It wasn't so much Amory's fault as the uncertain aunt's. He couldn't leave Coby's face for too much longer and while the boy enjoyed looking like he was wearing Halloween mask, it was gruesome reality that others had a hard time looking at.

As he listened to Amory voice his apologies he felt Meredith's hand touch his stomach and glanced down, surprised at how a childish flutter tugged at his insides. He let out a shaky breath, hoping she hadn't noticed and looked at her face questioningly. She motioned to the door, letting him know she was going and he nodded jerkily. She smiled at him, rather stiffly he thought, before turning around and hurrying out the door. He could still feel the exact spot that her hand had been and he wondered what that meant. He knew of his attraction and that she was potentially perfect for a long term relationship, but he was supposed to be relying on her friendship only and not thinking of anything more. Chalking it up to a lack of physical intimacy with anybody in the last… He frowned; he'd been celibate much longer than he cared to admit.

Amory chatted with him awhile about Smith's aunt coming in to talk to him. Since she was Smith's guardian, so she would ultimately have the final say. He sighed, knowing he and Grey would have to go in and convince her that it was the right thing to do. The kid's life would be harder than it had to be and he knew he could make it so much easier with a procedure that would restore as much of his original appearance as he could. From what Amory said, the aunt wasn't really looking at Smith's long term appearance but more at the cost of the procedure. She was going to have to pay for all of the medical bills, including that of the boy's parents, and she really wasn't liking how much it was coming to as it was. Mark didn't have the time or patience to deal with somebody griping about money and he wasn't interested in spending the rest of his night arguing with Amory about how he was going to convince the aunt, so he gave an excuse and got off the phone.

Since his shower was shot, Mark made his way back to his bedroom and got dressed in a comfortable pair of dark sweats and a ratty t-shirt he'd had since med school. McSmokey was lying asleep curled in a ball in the center of his bed and since Meredith wasn't there, he didn't feel any less manly when he picked up the kitten and cuddled it to his chest, making his way back to the living room and sprawling out on the couch. He flicked through the channels on the TV, not really paying attention. He'd had a long day and he was beyond tired. They got home a couple hours later than usual and it seemed Derek's mom wasn't giving up on calling him. Yang was throwing a fit over Burke returning to the hospital, so there was a message from her too. Oddly, another two hang ups were left on the machine and Mark wondered why whoever it was didn't just leave a message. Addison hadn't called back, but he wasn't interested in talking to her anyway. His "finding himself" journey with Meredith was going well and he didn't want to fall back on old habits. He was happy for the time being and he didn't want to be the one to ruin it for himself.

SportsCenter was on and he was fading in and out, his eyes fluttering, when he heard the door open and a huffy sigh that signaled the bags were heavy and she was getting close to annoyed. He blinked rapidly, trying to wake up as quickly as possible and sat up on the couch, catching McSmokey before the snoozing kitten fell off of him. He put the half-asleep ball of grey back on the couch and stood up, running a hand over his eyes and stifling a yawn. He closed the still open door and followed Meredith into the kitchen, smiling lightly as he listened to her mutter to herself.

"They gave me the wrong order and then tried to blame it on me when I came back and told them," she ranted, her brows high as she turned to him. "Because I should have _known_ it was the wrong order when I picked it up!"

"Did they give your ours when you went back?" he wondered, leaning against the counter.

"After fighting with the maitre'D for five minutes, the manager finally came over and made sure they got it right this time. I had to wait an extra half hour and for our patience they gave us a free lasagna. Except their lasagna turned out to be a container of ravioli. But I am not going back! If I do, I'm going to smash it into the smug little kid's face. I swear, he did it on purpose, Mark. He just kept staring with his beady little eyes, smiling at me all... meanly."

Mark snorted. "Meanly?"

"Yeah!" she exclaimed, nodding. "Never again. We're never ordering from there again. And you better love your three-cheese tortellini because I almost just left and picked up a pizza." Huffing, she pulled down some plates and pushed her hair back out of her face as she pulled the food out of the brown bags on the counter.

"I wouldn't have minded pizza," he said, smiling in amusement.

"Well it's too late now," she told him, glaring down at the silver container as she took off the white top. "And you know, they could have been a little nicer about it. I mean, obviously I didn't go in the back and tell them to replace my baked ziti with spaghetti." Letting out another frustrated sigh, she shook her head.

"Grey, is this really about the food?" he asked, lifting a questioning brow.

Her shoulders slumped. "I'm tired," she told him, her hands landing on the edge of the counter. "I'm tired and hungry and..." He nodded understandingly. "And I haven't had sex in _so_ long." He paused, his expression likely quite comical though she wasn't looking. "And right before I left, you were standing there and I thought... _Wow_." He smirked. "Wow, I must be really desperate."

Mark's face curled indignantly. "Hey!"

She sighed, looking up at him apologetically. "Sorry. Not like that. I mean, come on, we both know that you're certainly no disappointment to females everywhere. But now, it's like..." She bit her lip, her eyes moving around as if searching for a way to explain it. "You're like one of my persons and to sleep with you would be like a replay of that time I slept with George--"

"Not _that_'s offensive!" he interrupted, half-amused and honestly half-hurt.

"Not like _that_! Emotionally," she told him, rolling her eyes. "Besides, George was good. I think. I can't really... I think he was though. That's besides the point!" she said, shaking her head. "The problem is that I haven't had sex in a _very_ long time and I don't want to have a one night stand but I also don't want to risk having a relationship because I don't think I could handle that. It'd just turn into another Finn or Derek and that it the _last_ thing I need right now." Her eyes were wide with emphasis, the green becoming more vivid with her earnest expression.

"So, what exactly are you saying?" he wondered, his brows furrowing. "That you do and don't want to have sex with me because it's emotionally screwed up? But if you do then it's not a relationship, just sex?" He crossed his arms over his chest, not entirely sure if he should be offended or not.

"No. Yes. No." She exhaled heavily, closing her eyes tightly. "I don't know!" she admitted, her voice muffled around her hands that she was now pressing against her face. "I want to have sex. I'm not entirely partial at the moment. But I don't... I don't want to risk you, us, this," she told him, motioning between them. "Because it was weird and awkward and there were some feelings on one half when it happened between me and George and I really don't want that to repeat here."

Mark stared at her, not entirely sure how to reply. There was no doubt that he wanted to sleep with her, but he wasn't sure he could promise that some kind of emotional attachment wasn't already made. If he took that extra step he might actually turn into the O'Malley in the situation and he really didn't want to be that. Plus, it had huge potential for him getting hurt; for him to put that already broken heart out there and have it handed back crushed again. Then again, there was a chance that they could just have sex and still be friends. He didn't know who he was kidding with that one but it wasn't as if they weren't already just as close as any couple was outside of the bedroom. They lived together, worked together, spent their off time together. To their friends, they were the ultimate non-couple. How much could it really hurt to sleep together?

"Look, I can't promise that when we sleep together - not if, but when - one of us won't feel something more. This whole being each other's persons thing gets in the way, I know. You're the closest thing I've got to a best friend and probably a girlfriend and I don't want to risk that. We've had six months of one of the closest friendships I've ever had but I can't pretend it hasn't been just a little more than that." He sighed, running a hand up the back of his head, ruffling his hair. He stepped forward, briefly noticing how cold the linoleum was on his bare feet, and turned her toward him, his hands fitting on each of her hips. "One of O'Malley's problems was that he never told you how he felt. He was jittery and scared and he didn't think you returned those feelings. I couldn't be jittery on my worst day and I don't scare easy. But if we do this and either of us starts to feel something, then we either end it or we see where it goes. I'm not going to be Derek or O'Malley or anybody else for you. I'm gonna be me and that'll either be good or bad. I'm an either love him or hate him type of guy." He stared at her, watching her green eyes focus in on his face and stay there while she listened intently.

"This could turn out very badly," she said, her voice low as if trying to keep it just between the two of them.

"But it'll feel good too," he told her, winking as his mouth curved in a smirk. His hands on her hips tightened slightly and she let out a little gasp, her lips falling apart and her eyes leaving his to venture down to his mouth. "Are you ready for this, Grey?" he wondered, his eyes taking in the plains of her face. She really was beautiful, even without the makeup and the freshly washed hair. Her bangs were falling in her eyes again and the smell of their dinner was overpowering the scent of her shampoo and bodywash, but her body was small and softly feminine in his hands. The freckles on her nose stood out a little more and the flecks of blue in her green eyes made him a little intoxicated when her gaze met his. He'd asked her if she was ready and yet some part was asking him if he was sure he was.

Her hands lifted from his arms, where he only now realized they'd been resting, sliding up his biceps and around his shoulders. He felt her palms glide over his neck and suppressed a telling shiver, her short nails grazed his scalp as her fingers laced in his hair. She lifted herself up on her tip toes, her mouth slowly inching toward his. His breath caught and in a moment of anticipation, he thought he might have let out a shaky sigh. When her lips met his, his eyes fell closed and his fingers tightened against her hips, bringing her closer. Six months of seeing her sleep ruffled face every morning; of seeing her half-lidded eyes and her tired but somehow warm smile. Of watching her run around in her baggy pajama pants and fitted camisoles nightly, finding no problem in throwing her feet up into his lap while she sprawled on the couch or using his shoulder or chest as a pillow while she watched TV or napped. Twenty four weeks of seeing her dress up for movies or dinner or plays or concerts with friends or just each other; of waiting for her to find whatever shoe she'd lost that time and placing an innocent hand on the small of her smooth back. Over one hundred and eighty mornings filled with radio banter and sharing muffins and coffee and cookies; of an innocent friendship, playful banter, and a routine bred from sincere comradery. In that one kiss, he wondered if maybe it was leading to this all along.

Her lips were soft, her tongue warm and sweet, her hands in his hair were tugging lightly and her body was arching up into his. The kiss started out innocently enough, just a seal of sorts to a deal that would likely burn them both. But within seconds, it was heated and passionate and though he could blame it on far too many months of celibacy, he knew it was more. Because he'd had six months with this woman and he'd been wondering and fantasizing and hoping it would come to this. He always wondered what her kiss would taste like, if she'd be the type to take charge or just let it happen and he found she was a mixture of both. She let him control it to an extent, but she didn't just stand there and let him kiss her. She met him, full throttle, with her teeth and her tongue and her frenzied lips. He forgot about dinner and how he'd previously been ready to sleep away the rest of the night on the couch. He forgot about telling her that they were going to have to talk to Coby Smith's aunt about his surgery. He forgot everything but the woman in front of him.

His hands had left her hips and were sliding up her back, fingertips digging in, as if trying to draw her into him. She let him pull her closer, let him practically lift her off the ground with the need to have more of her. They broke apart only when the need for air was so much that he was left gasping and shaking as their lips parted. Her arms wrapped tighter around his neck, trying to hold herself up as she panted for breath against his shoulder. His fingers let up on her back, arms moving to circle her waist and hold her against him almost tenderly. He wanted to say something, reassure her that they'd made the right choice, but he was too busy searching for the breath she'd stolen.

"We should've done that sooner," she said, the words stilted with her still heavy breathing.

He laughed, his eyes closed as he rested his chin on her shoulder and ran a shaky hand through her hair. He wouldn't admit it, but if they'd done that any sooner, he was pretty sure he would have died. He'd never felt that before; that passion in just one kiss. There was the natural desire for more, burning in his stomach and tightening much lower, but there was a contentness in his chest that he hadn't felt before. To an extent, Addison had made him feel complete. But he was never really sure if that had more to do with the dream of perfection that she embodied or the feelings he felt for her. He couldn't say he'd seen Meredith with Derek and wanted that relationship; if anything, he wanted the opposite of their tangled and messy relationship. They were heartbroken far more than they were in love and he could barely stand what had happened between him and Addison, so he knew he couldn't go through anything close to that again. Meredith wasn't offering happily ever after though, she was offering a physical release between friends. He knew it was naive of them, knew it was probably stupid and reckless. And in the past, that likely would have turned him on. But in that moment, holding her, some part of him hoped that maybe they could do this and it would evolve for _both_ of them, rather than just one. Maybe, just this once, the deal wouldn't go bad but good. Maybe these two friends, these two broken hearts, could make it with each other.

It was risky, putting their friendship on the line in hopes that she might grow to care for him. She'd loved Derek and he'd already lost one woman to his former best friend. He couldn't lose Meredith too. The whole reason he'd left was to mend and he'd brought her along thinking she would do the same. But what if in the end, when she was done fixing herself, she left him behind and went back to Seattle. What if the new and improved Meredith Grey was able to have a stable relationship with Derek? All bright and shiny instead of dark and twisty in New York with him? He couldn't go through that again; wouldn't risk chasing after her for another episode of the Seattle Grace soap opera. She wanted the friendship though, no matter what they did or who they loved. Which meant that if she did leave, if she went back to Derek and Seattle, he'd have to paste on a smile and pretend he was happy for her. Just like how it started with Addison.

Meredith's arms fell from around his shoulders, hands sliding back down his arms and then wrapping around his waist. She pulled her head back and looked up at him. "Dinner?" she asked, lifting a brow.

Mark nodded, wondering if this meant the deal was shelved for now. In a moment of rare tenderness, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She stared up at him, her eyes softer and inquisitive. "You want wine or a beer?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"Wine. We're having Italian, after all. It'd be sacrifledge or whatever," she replied with a shrug before she dropped her arms from around him and returned to dishing out the food.

Mark immediately noticed how empty he felt without her around him and shook his head. He should stop this before it went too far.

"Are you still having that boy's poker night Sunday?" she asked, looking at him over her shoulder. At his nod, she grinned. "Good. You'll never guess who's coming down to visit. While you're drinking beer and losing all your money, I'll be out with my other person." Her shoulders lifted as if she'd achieved something intensely gratifying.

"The crazy one?" he asked, lifting a brow and smiling lightly. "Didn't think Yang had it in her to leave a whole day of surgeries to fly out here." He frowned, remembering what else she'd said. "And I'm good at poker."

"She's been ordered to take a few days off," Meredith explained, shrugging. "Everyone says they're good at poker. Just don't bet anything important. Like our movies... Or any of my stuff... And not the cat!" She pointed at him, as if that would warn him off.

Snorting, Mark rolled his eyes, pouring them each a glass of red wine. "Like I could get anything for McSmokey."

Meredith chuckled. "Who am I kidding? You'd never get rid of the kitten. You enjoy cuddling with him too much."

"I do _not_ cuddle it," he said indignantly.

"You do too," she replied, smiling.

Mark frowned and glared down at the kitten as it appeared at his feet, clawing at the end of his sweatpants and meowing up at him needily. "You're giving me a bad rep," he told the cat, his frown melting into a grin. "We should get a dog," he told her, remembering what Jake had mentioned the weekend before.

Snorting, Meredith brought their food out to the table and set them down across from each other. "What are you going to do with a dog?"

"What kind of question is that?" he asked, sliding into his chair. "I'd raise it or whatever a person does with a dog."

"Love it? Walk it? Feed it?" she replied, lifting a brow. "You won't even go running with me in the park but you'll take a dog for a couple walks a day?"

"A couple? Isn't one enough?" he asked, frowning.

Shaking her head, Meredith chuckled. "A dog would be stifled in an environment like this. The apartment is too small for a dog to run around in. There's no space. We'd need a back yard." Sipping from her wine, she licked her lips. "And knowing you, you'd want a really big dog. Meaning we'd need _a lot_ of space."

"Small dogs are yappy," he said, shrugging. Absently, he picked the meowing kitten up off the floor and let it sit in his lap. It curled up and purred against his stomach while he stirred his steaming tortellini. "We could take it out on weekends though. There's a dog park around here somehwere. Toss a frisbee or whatever."

Rolling her eyes, Meredith shrugged. "Maybe."

"What you're really saying is no," he accused, closing one eye and pointing his fork at her.

"What I'm really saying is maybe. I'll think about it. It might be nice to have a dog again. I'm just not sure it's a good idea with the apartment. If we get a puppy, it'll chew on everything and if we get an older dog, it might not like the closed in space." She shook her head. "So, maybe."

Sighing, Mark scratched the small head of the kitten in his lap and smiled down as it purringly stared up at him in adoration. "We'll wear her down," he told it and it meowed in response, standing up and waving it's stubby little tail around. "McSmokey wants a dog."

"You could've asked him if he wanted to be eaten by rabid squirrels and he would've meowed," she replied, frowning.

"But I didn't," he replied, smiling.

"Eat your dinner," she told him, pointing at the food in front of him. "I went through a lot of trouble to get that for you."

"Beady eyed maitre'D's and all," he replied cheekily.

"That's right," she said, winking as she lifted her fork up to her mouth.

Maybe it was a little late to stop whatever it was that was starting. It was already coming at him full force and he was pretty sure he didn't want it to end.

**To be continued...**

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A/N** _Luckily, I was able to get to the computer again today. Hope you enjoyed this. A little MerMark-ness to hold you over. I kind of like insecure-Mark. He's not overly dramatic or emotional. He just had his realistic fears. OH, and some Cristina is coming too! That should be interesting... Leave a review, I'd like to know what you think about this chapter! _


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